


Honestly, I Love You To Infinity

by littlebitlostandfound



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: F/F, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:22:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23768434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlebitlostandfound/pseuds/littlebitlostandfound
Summary: When Mae falls sick, Cathy does everything she can to make her feel better.
Relationships: Anne Boleyn/Catherine Parr
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

“Good morning, Mae,” Parr chirps from the door, smiling as she walks towards their shared bed. When Mae doesn’t stir like she normally does at her voice, panic quickly takes over.

“Mae?” Parr pulls down the covers and sits on the bed, placing the back of her hand of her daughter’s forehead and gasped when it felt unnaturally warm. Mae hadn’t shown any signs of sickness the night before so for this to happen so suddenly was definitely a surprise.

“Oh, darling,” Parr hums sadly, brushing away the stray hair from Mae’s face. At that moment, Mae scrunches her eyebrows and slowly opens her eyes, shutting them close again, feeling her pounding headache.

“Mama,” Mae whimpers weakly. Parr gives her a soft look before kissing her forehead. “Mama, hurts.”

“Where does it hurt?” Parr asks patiently, ghosting her fingers over Mae’s cheeks and temples in hopes of calming her down.

Mae points at her head and her chest, whimpering again, trying not to strain her throat. Parr notices that her daughter’s nose was also clogged and she was heaving heavily in attempt to breathe properly. She lets out a frustrated yelp at her futile attempts, tears starting to escape her eyes.

Pain shoots through Parr’s chest at Mae’s distressed state, and she all but gathers her in her arms, holding her daughter’s warm body tight against hers.

“I know it hurts, baby, shh,” Parr coos, resisting the urge to sway from side to side. “We’ll get some medicine in you, alright? And lots of water.”

“Work?” Mae asks, balling a bit of Parr’s shirt in her fist. Parr’s heart clenches at her daughter’s consideration.

“You are my priority, darling, the show will go on without me. I’m staying here until you feel better, okay?” Parr explains, threading her fingers through Mae’s hair. She feels a slight nod against her chest, and then warm breath against her neck as Mae tries to breathe through her mouth.

“Baby, I’ll be carrying you downstairs, is that alright? Are you able to sit up?” Parr asks, gently peeling her daughter away from her body to get a good look at her face. “It’s okay if you’d like to stay in bed, too. I’ll bring everything up to you.”

Mae clings to Parr again, coiling her arms weakly around her neck with no intention of letting go. Parr stands and shifts her on her hip, giving her more freedom with one arm. She makes her way downstairs with Mae’s limp form struggling to keep upright.

“Hey Jane, could you give me a hand, please,” Parr calls after spotting her in the living room, as she was currently having a hard time opening the screw cap of the medicine bottle with one hand. Jane immediately comes over and looks at the pair sympathetically, measuring out the dosage in a medicine cup.

“Poor thing woke up with a fever,” Parr tells Jane, taking the medicine from her and brings it up to Mae’s lips. She takes it in without any fuss before returning to laying her head on Parr’s shoulder. “I think there’s a bug going around, Edward was sick not too long ago.”

“Yeah, that’s true, but still, it’s quite unfortunate especially with her so young. I hope you get better, little one,” Jane rubs Mae’s back and as if pulling off some sort of a trigger, Mae starts to heave and quickly vomits over Parr’s shoulder, whimpering loudly.

Everyone is still for a moment.

Then Mae promptly bursts into tears.

“Hey, shh, it’s okay, baby,” Parr soothes, bringing her daughter over to the sink. She rubs her back again, this time with more purpose. “I know that isn’t all of it. I’ve got you. Shh, Mama’s got you.”

Mae empties the contents of her stomach again over the sink, and when she was done, slumps against Parr. Jane apologizes profusely, not knowing that that would happen, and after tons of reassurances that it was alright, she immediately busies herself with cleaning the sick on the kitchen floor. Mae’s bile had ended up staining the back of Parr’s shirt and the scent was starting to become more noticeable.

“I think we’re due a bath, yeah?” Parr asks the child in her arms, and with a bleary look, nods once. Parr slowly turns around to see what else she could help Jane with but she quickly shoos them away.

“I’ve got it covered here, love, you go clean yourselves up,” Jane insists, and Parr nods gratefully, making her way to upstairs to the bathroom.

As she lets the tub fill up, she sits Mae down on the toilet and removes her soiled clothes before discarding her own. She runs a small washcloth under warm water and wrings it out tightly, kneeling in front of her daughter and she wipes her down.

“Sorry,” Mae sniffles, her eyes closed and her head hung low. Parr puts a curled finger under her chin and runs her thumb over her jutted bottom lip.

“You didn’t mean it, baby, don’t worry about it,” Parr reassures, leaning forward to press her lips against her hairline. “Come on, I’ll join you in the tub.”

Parr gathers Mae in her arms and lowers the both of them down in the tub. She leans back and Mae drapes lazily against her body, her head resting against her chest. They were completely skin to skin, and Parr has never felt closer to her daughter as she did in that moment. She cups her hand under the water and Mae sighs in contentment when she feels small streams trickle against her back.

Mae coos and wriggles impossibly closer against her mother, wrapping her arms around her middle under the warm water. Parr exhales soundly, keeping one hand splayed against her back as she hums.

“I hope you feel better, love.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Sing, mama.” 

Parr obliges. After their bath, it didn’t take too long for Mae to feel cold again so she makes quick effort to drain the bath and get her into warmer clothes. She tucks her under the thick duvet, and despite her songs, Mae was still struggling to fall asleep. Parr was lying down sideways next to her, her hand on top of the covers. 

“Room’s spinny,” Mae mumbles blearily, having a hard time focusing on her mother so she shuts her eyes tight, tries to steady the whirling room. She sits up quickly and brings her hands up to her head, her frustration growing by the second.

“Help, mama,” Mae whimpers, her voice hoarse through tears. Parr sits up immediately but knows better than to move her since she fears she might vomit again and she barely had anything to expel. Mae screeches as she sobs, “Mama, _please!_ ” 

“Baby, shh, just breathe with me,” Parr forces herself to stay calm even though she was on the brink of breaking down. She absolutely hated seeing her little girl suffer through something she couldn’t fix. “Come on, baby, hold mama’s hand. That’s right, in and out with me.” 

Mae tries her best to follow Parr’s rhythm, her eyes still shut tight but was relieved that her head had stopped pounding against her ears. 

“Keep breathing, baby, you’re doing so well. Just a tiny bit more, can you squeeze my hand? Just a tiny bit, squeeze mama’s hand, Mae.” Parr encourages, keeping her voice low but continues to talk when she realized her daughter responds better when she does. Mae gives her hands a weak squeeze, and Parr leads her hands around her neck, slowly transferring her daughter on her lap. 

Mae clings tightly, her cries much softer now. 

“It’s okay, mama’s got you,” Parr soothes, running her fingers through her hair. Mae buries her head in the crook of her neck, breathing through her mouth. “Can you try opening your eyes for me, love?” 

Mae doesn’t dare shake her head—she’s too afraid of the room spinning again. 

“Scared to,” Mae whispers into her clavicle, her arms dropping down from Parr’s neck to her sides. 

“The spinning room must’ve been scary,” Parr notes, kissing the crown of her head. “I can’t promise that it won’t be spinny anymore, but could you try looking at me?”

Mae takes a deep breath before slowly fluttering her eyes open. Her head thrums with a dull ache, but her vision doesn’t tunnel and she gingerly looks up at her mother with a tired smile. 

Parr kisses her on the nose. “Oh, there’s my girl. Thank you for being so brave.” 

Mae slumps immediately against Parr’s form, her eyes feeling heavier by the minute. Parr guides her back under the covers, tucking her in properly before laying down again by her side. 

“I’ll wake you up in a while, alright?” Parr whispers, pressing her lips against the side of her head. “Just rest up. I love you.” 

“Love you, mama,” Mae mumbles before nodding off to sleep. She stays longer than she should to watch her sleep, but mostly she was too worried if she would have any more coughing fits or dizzy spells. Once Parr was sure that she should be fine for a few minutes, she tiptoes downstairs to gather more supplies to bring up to her bedside. 

“I heard Mae’s sick, I hope she feels better,” Parr hears Anne walk into the kitchen, just as she was about to heat up some soup leftover from last night. “Never fun when your kid’s under the weather.” 

“I almost lost it when she said the room was spinning and I couldn’t do anything to help her, it was horrible,” Parr laments, clearing her head of the memory she’d rather not remember again. “She’s just so tiny and she couldn’t hold anything down, this is her first time getting sick and I’m freaking out.” 

“Hey, it’s alright, she’s young. She’ll recover quick, that’s how kids are,” Anne reassures, putting her hand on her shoulder for comfort. “And I’m sure you’re also doing great—if you can get her sit still long enough to drink her water and medicine, then you’re pretty much nailing it.”

Parr chuckles, her mood lifting slightly. She ladles the soup into a bowl and places it on the tray alongside a glass of water, towels, and children’s medicine. 

“Thanks, Anne, I really needed that.” 

“Anytime. And let me know if you need any help with Mae, okay?” 

“I will, thanks.” Parr smiles, and she makes her way up to their room. She puts down the tray on the bedside as she checks the time, and realizes it’s been a good couple of hours since her first dosage. 

“Love, could you wake up for me real quick? We just need to drink your medicine.” Parr coos, leaning forward to wake her daughter up but swallows the scream that wanted to jump from her throat when she saw that she was barely breathing. 

“Mae? Baby, oh God,” Parr cries out, fully panicked. With a trembling hand, she reaches down the side of her neck to feel for a pulse and she sighs in relief when she feels a weak but steady beat against her fingers. 

Parr immediately rips the duvet away and scoops her into her arms, rushing out of her room and down the stairs. Anne was in the living room and upon hearing the commotion, stands up and walks around the corner only to be met by an emotionally unstable Parr. 

“Cathy, what’s happening? What’s wrong with Mae?” Anne worries, her voice laced with urgent concern. Parr chokes on her sobs as she hastily puts on her house slippers, seeing as it’s the easiest thing to wear. 

“Mae, she’s barely breathing. I need to get her to a hospital.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Come on, I’ll drive.” 

The ride to the hospital was tense. Anne was behind the wheel and tried to go as fast as she could without breaking any traffic laws, and Parr stayed at the backseat with Mae, keeping her daughter against her chest as she rubbed her shoulder, coaxing her to open her eyes. 

“Hey, baby, can you hear me? Mama needs you to hold on, alright?” Parr chokes out, leaning her ear down to listen for her shallow breaths. She reaches to hold her clammy hand and she almost breaks down again then and there. “I’ve got you, baby. Mama’s right here. Can you hear my voice, Mae? Can you try squeezing my hand?” 

Mae doesn’t respond. 

Anne keeps her eyes on the road but grips the wheel tight as her vision slightly blurs from the tears pooling in her eyes. She understands how helpless Parr feels and she worries for Mae, for both of them, really.

Parr continues to talk to Mae’s limp form, desperately trying to wake her up and other than her shallow breaths, she wasn’t showing any other signs of life. Anne drops them off at the ER area of the hospital. 

“Go bring her in, I’ll find you after I park.” Anne urges, and Parr nods as she carries her daughter out of the car and rushes in through the doors. 

“Help, please! My daughter, she’s barely breathing,” Parr calls out, and almost immediately, nurses flock over to her, taking Mae out of her arms and settling her on a gurney. One nurse checks her over and looks up at her peers with a knowing look, immediately wheeling her into one of the rooms. 

Parr was stopped by one of the nurses, her face sympathetic. “I’m sorry, ma’am, you’ll get to see her after. They just need to check on her vitals.” 

“I’m her mum, she needs me in there when she wakes up,” Parr argues, but the nurse shakes her head and leads her to the vacant chair just across the room they brought her daughter in. 

“We’ll let you know as soon as we have more information on your daughter’s state.” The nurse explains, and with a polite nod, walks back inside. Anne spots Parr sitting down with her head in her hands and jogs over to sit down next to her. 

“Where did they bring her?” Anne asks gently, rubbing small circles on Parr’s back. Parr lets herself collapse, her tears flowing freely now. Anne repositions herself and brings Parr up, and she immediately holds on to her tightly, sobbing into her shoulder. 

“I’m so scared, Anne,” Parr admits, and Anne could only hug her tighter. “She wasn’t responding to me in the car. She was breathing but she was so cold, Anne, I was so afraid—“ 

“Shh, she’ll be okay, Cathy,” Anne soothes, rubbing her back. “Mae’s a strong one, you know that.” 

Parr lets the sobs rack through her chest and Anne sits there patiently, holding her until she was almost spent. She wipes at her eyes when she pulls away but Anne intertwines her hand with Parr’s, letting her know that she’s not in this alone. 

After a few more moments, the door swings open and one of the nurses come out of the room. Parr shoots up from her seat, Anne not far behind. 

“How is she?” Parr asks eagerly, her arms wrapped around her middle. 

“Just a rough case of pneumonia. It’s good that you’ve brought her in when you did, she had some fluid in her lungs but we were able to flush it out quickly. She should be alright after this, but we’d like to have her stay overnight for observation.” The doctor explains, and Parr lets out a deep exhale. 

“Is she awake?” Anne asks, wrapping her arm around Parr’s shoulders to help calm her down. 

“She should be coming around in a bit. Come on, I’ll lead you two in.” The doctor ushers them forward and Parr frowns at the sight of her daughter looking incredibly tiny on the hospital bed, her hand hooked up to the IV and breathing tubes looped through her nose. 

Parr walks up to the side of the bed and internally rejoices when she notices the steady rise and fall of her chest. She leans forward, gingerly kissing her forehead. “Hey, Mae. It’s Mama.” 

Mae’s eyes flutter a bit but remain closed. Anne stays on the other side and holds Mae’s free hand, rubbing circles on the back of her hand with her thumb. 

“You’ve been asleep for an awfully long time, darling. Mama misses you so much,” Parr coos, settling her hand on Mae’s stomach. “Can you wake up for me, baby? Can you let mama see those beautiful eyes?”

Mae gently squeezes Anne’s hand, and after a few moments, does as she was told. Mae startles a bit at her new environment and the foreign objects so suddenly attached to her, but she focuses on her mother and she immediately reaches up to wrap her arms around her neck. 

“Oh, baby. I’m so relieved,” Parr whispers, peppering small kisses all over her face. Mae wriggles in her spot, pulling at Parr’s shirt. 

“Mama, hold me,” Mae pleads, and Parr toes her slippers off and sits on the edge of the hospital bed before sliding to the middle. Mae weakly clambers up to drape herself over her mother, and Anne quickly stands to help make sure that none of the wires would pull or tangle. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay, Mae,” Anne breathes, placing her hand on Mae’s back. Mae mumbles something incoherent into Parr’s neck, snuggling deeper. 

“You’ve had us so worried,” Parr whispers, burying her nose in her daughter’s mess of curls. “You’ll have to stay here overnight, the doctors need to make sure you’ll be okay to come home in the morning.” 

“Stay here.” Mae whimpers, and Parr’s heart grips at her words.

“Of course, baby.” 

Mae slowly relaxes, soothing herself by tracing the patterns on her mother’s shirt. Parr lets a few tears slip out again, but mostly out of relief. 

“I thought I’d lost her,” Parr closes her eyes for a moment before looking over at Anne with a softness she reserves for moments like these. “Thank you.” 

Anne only smiles.

“She’s a little survivor, this one. She takes after you.” 


End file.
